


Ivory Tower

by solitariusvirtus, tenten_d



Series: The Family [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 20th Century, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crime Family!Targaryens, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Rapunzel Inspired, Struggle for Power, Vignettes, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2506187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenten_d/pseuds/tenten_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaeheara fully expects to live a life free of her mobster family when her father packs everything valuable that they own and runs with her into the night.</p><p>Unfortunately, that is not the case. It seems the family wants her back, and they will get her with or without her consent. What does Jaehaera do?</p><p>That's easy! She fights every step of the way.</p><p>(A modern fairytale in which Jaehaera is the reluctant Rapunzel-like creature that everyone thinks they can keep locked in a tower. But Jaehaera won't accept any tower that is not of her own making.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hanhreus](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Hanhreus).



> Because Jaehaera won't go down without a fight, that's why! *sobs miserably* Why, Martin? Why?

Her tower is a few bricks short. Its height is not impressive. The door stays wide open and she may leave anytime she wishes. But that is exactly the point. The princess in the tower is trapped by her own wildly beating heart. Jaehaera doesn't want to leave her tower. The princess is content in her cage, surrounded by colourful linens and wonderful trinkets. The golden bars protect her. She is safe. What is outside these thin walls but grief and strife?

Or so the story goes.

There is just one thing her comfortable cage lacks. Contact. The dragon guarding her cage does not care overly much for her. She is simply there, as she has been for the past seventeen years. Jaehaera looks up from her pancakes to her father who is reading the newspaper. He does not notice her stare. The sweet chocolate sauce slides down her throat and Jaehaera winces at the burn it leaves behind.

"You should hurry, unless you fancy being late," her father reminds her. The dragon puffs out some harmless smoke from time to time.

"Yes, father." She hurriedly eats the rest of her breakfast.

"Call me when your classes are over," he reminds her just as she makes her way out the door.

* * *

Jaehaera does not sit in the back of the class. She is one of those diligent children who actually does care about grades and the substantial advantage they can offer. But she is always alone. Jaehaera ignores that. She doesn't need anyone anyway.

She has always been alone. Ever since she was a little girl. But this princess has never really waited for a knight in shining armour to rescue her. Besides, knights are more trouble than they are worth. Jaehaera bends even further over her notebook.

She copies the words on the board, her legs shaking under the table.

This is the last of her classes. And it will be over in a few minutes. Somewhere behind her a few girls have started giggling. There are whispers. As ever, Jaehaera ignores them. She takes a glance at the watch and a small smile twists the corners of her mouth.

The bell rings loudly, signalling the end of class and the beginning of freedom. A few classmates rush past her. Some move slower. Jaehaera places her notebook in the bag and pulls on the zipper. Slinging the bag over one shoulder she gives one last look to her table to make sure she hasn't left anything behind.

* * *

Her father is not answering his phone. Jaehaera bites her lower lip in annoyance and shoves the phone back in her pocket. If he can't be bothered to answer one measly call that he requested, then Jaehaera refuses to feel any obligation to try again. Instead she starts the long walk home, her eyes avoiding the face of every person on the street as if that might keep her safe and happy.

A car honks from somewhere close. Jaehaera pays it no mind; she only walks faster, making an awkward jump over a puddle. But then the unthinkable happens.

"Jaehaera! Jaehaera Targaryen!" a voice yells out from behind her, clearly male. Her first reaction is to freeze in wonder, but she pushes past that when she hears the slap of his shoes against the sidewalk. Fear grips her heart and she looks around rather like a deer in the headlights.

He is fast, whoever he is, because if he takes one more step he'll be able to grab her hand. She bristles at the thought and a snarl makes its way to her lips. Her head snaps back to its initial position and she lifts her foot to take a stride.

* * *

But he is too fast. The man wraps strong fingers around her shoulder and turns her around like her resistance means nothing to him. Jaehaera looks up at him, ready to give him a piece of her own mind, when hauntingly familiar eyes steal her breath away.

"Jaehaera, don't you remember me?" he asks gently, as if she were a frightened filly. The girl bites on her tongue. She remembers someone else entirely. "I'm Aegon. Don't you remember?"

"No," the lie slides out easily. "You must be confusing me with someone else." Gods, this cannot be happening to her. "Kindly let go." But her obstinacy asserts itself and she continues as she has ever been.

"I'm not," Aegon insists. Something familiar flashes in those eyes she loathes so much as of four seconds ago. Jaehaera longs to shake his grip off her shoulder, but people are already staring at them with thinly veiled curiosity. She balks at giving them any reason to pay more attention than they should. "I'm not mistaken. You are Jaehaera Targaryen, I could never forget you."

Just as she can't forget him and her aunt and the blood and gore, their livid grandfather, mother's agonized screams, her brother chocking on his own blood, gurgling and sputtering, his lungs filling with blood instead of air.

"You are mistaken," she reaffirms. "That girl died more than a decade ago."

* * *

How he finds her after that she does not know. But Jaehaera wakes one day with men in black suits at her door. Her father had been gone for more than a couple of weeks now and it scares her. But she braves these fears and – foolishly – steps out the door with a small grimace on her face.

"How may I help you?" she questions in a polite manner, but her voice is ice cold. She gives every man a stony look. They are four and she is only one. Jaehaera tries to calm her wildly beating heart. If she'd lucky they'll finish her off quickly.

"Come with us, Miss," one of them tells her – more like orders her. He presumes to order her, but she knows not in whose capacity the man does so. "We have been instructed to escort you."

She fails to move. "I thank you, sers, but I am afraid I cannot possibly leave. I am waiting for someone." And she is waiting in vain, Jaehaera presumes. Her father had been gone for two entire weeks. He's likely lying somewhere in a ditch with his throat slit.

Right about now, Jaehaera hates her family so much and wishes she were anyone else.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaehaera shifts in her seat, uncomfortably positioned between two of her captors. The other two sit at the front, one driving, the other occupying the passenger's seat. She is effectively trapped, and she knows it. Jaehaera's skin crawls at the thought.

Still, she looks straight ahead, not daring to break away from the sole point that can offer her some comfort.

It has been years since she has seen their old mansion, the house she has spent her happiest years in. The very same home houses her darkest nightmares as well. The car rolls to a stop. Jaehaera's heart stops too, the moment forever arrested in her memory.

They lead her out the car by her wrist, as if she were some unruly child that needs to be led about. Jaehaera jerks free of their hold, but doesn't break pace. There is really no reason to attempt anything. Yet. She eyes the people that have come out to greet her suspiciously.

Aegon is the first one she recognises, if only because they have so recently met – again, according to him.

"Welcome, cousin," he greets her, and Jaehaera knows that he must be the new head of the family. Aegon steps closer to her and gives her a one armed embrace, ghosting her lips over his left cheek.

* * *

Dinner is a tense affair. Jaehaera sits at the table, a few seats away from her cousin. Uncle Daemon's latest mistress, Nettles, faces her from the other side of the table, uncle Daemon himself sitting next to her. When Aunt Rhaenyra died, he relinquished the power his marriage afforded him and has made his base in the Riverlands. If he is to be believed – which Jaehaera does, despite her better notions – he has come here just for her.

There is much resentment in this family and they are all so very prepared to strike and appease the need for revenge that burns in their veins. There is Corlys Velaryon, for example, whose wife, Rhaenys died along with so many others; he still carries the sorrow around for everyone to see. And it is clear from the way he eyes her that if he could, he would use the silver spoon to carve her heart out.

Jaehaera turns her attention to the pumpkin soup and scoops up a spoonful of it. It's very good. Her stomach protests at the fine taste. She has grown used to her father's mediocre cooking. Jaehaera decides to enjoy her food and pay no one else any mind. The rich flavours are a blessing to her taste buds.

* * *

Surprisingly enough they don't lead her to her old room. Aegon tells her that part of the house has been under lock and key for the past eight years. She shrugs at the news. But the next thing to leave his lips catches all of her attention, and Jaehaera is forced, for the first time, to look at Aegon with something other than disinterest.

"Your mother," he says, clasping his hands behind his back, "she stayed there after your father left." Jaehaera knows next to nothing about her mother, she barely remembers what the woman looked like. "She threw herself out the window."

The doors open to reveal a sumptuous room. Jaehaera is familiar with this space. "Why have you brought me here?" she questions, her voice suddenly harsh. She wants to turn around and flee. This room belongs to the mistress of the home. This room used to house her grandmother, Alicent.

"This is your room from now on," Aegon proclaims, tugging her until she has both her feet firmly planted on the plush carpet beyond the threshold. If this is his head is a joke, it is in poor taste. Jaehaera narrows her eyes at him. He doesn't seem affected.

"I cannot stay here." The house is old, it follows rules established long before she or Aegon were born. The rooms of the mistress are directly connected to those of the maester. It is a statement to the relationship of those who use these rooms.

And in their world it matters.

* * *

With a starts she realises why she has been brought back. It has everything to do with the family and their wish for balance. She must act as a balm for the wounds of others. She is the last of her father's children, the last of Alicent's descendants and to the Hightowers it matters. It's a power struggle.

"I won't stay here," she warns her cousin, hands crossing over her chest protectively. "You cannot make me."

He smiles, cold and reptilian, like a snake that has caught a juicy rabbits. Jaehaera is tempted to search the top of her head for a couple of fluffy ears. She meets his predatory gaze with her unsettled eyes and resists the urge to give in the face of this pressure.

"You have to." The words are like iron bars blocking her movement. "There is nowhere else to go." And logically she knows he is right. "There is no one left out there for you, Jaehaera." That is also true. The Hightowers might want her close to Aegon, but they wouldn't risk starting a feud by taking her in themselves.

Her fingers curl inwards, nails biting into the skin. This battle is lost, but the war rages on.

* * *

Laughter explodes on her lips. It is not amusement which persuades her to laugh, rather it is disbelief. "Why would I consent to this? I have already told you, cousin, that I intend to leave. Kindly, allow me to do so. She knows she sounds bitter. She feels bitter too.

"And I have already told you there is nowhere you may go." She takes in the note of stubbornness and sighs. Aegon is bent on keeping her with the family it would seem. Her eyes fall to the settlement. "Read this and sign it, or make additions and sign it after."

The point it that she has to sign those papers either way. "I don't want to sign this," she complains. "This is not medieval Westeros. Regardless of what grandfather's will says, I refuse to marry just because the clan needs a link."

"You are part of the clan," he reminds her frostily. "More than that, you can end this internal turmoil right now."

The clan can rot for all Jaehaera cares. "Marrying me is not even legal."

"Don't concern yourself with that." He hands her the pen. "Just sign on the dotted line."

Jaehaera takes it from his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Dressed in layers upon layers of satin, silk and lace, Jaehaera feels like a veritable bride. At least on the outside. She looks in the mirror and barely recognises the apparently sophisticated creature gazing back at her through thick lashes. It's a bit much, a bit too far from her usual look. The woman in the mirror looks like she could command respect if she exerted herself. How strange that such a thing as clothing can have this much of an effect.

"I bet Aegon won't even know it's me." But he will. The man is paying for all of this, after all. He probably knows every last detail, down to the size of her shoes. Jaehaera takes a good look at said shoes. They pinch her toes slightly, a snug fit. They look wonderful, but her feet won't be thanking her later.

A silver tendril of hair falls out of her neatly arranged coiffure and she almost laughs. This is too good to let pass. At least this small rebellion she'll have all to herself.

On the inside though, she is still the same Jaehaera, surrounded by her doubts and fears and about to enter what can only be termed the biggest mistake of her life.

A knock on the door interrupts her musings.

* * *

If any objections could have been raised at the city hall on grounds of her yet juvenile age, Jaehaera is quite sure one look at the Targaryen men would have been enough to dissuade any such attempts. She would not thank them for that. Jaehaera does her best to level cold gazes at anyone unfortunate enough to wind up in her line of vision. Not that very many seem eager to do so.

The Septon however looks more sympathetic to her cause. However that does not exempt him from doing his Faith induced duty. He drones on a pleasantly awkward ceremony, on account of these being the Targaryens and attempts to hide any sliver of disapproval from his voice and countenance. Jaehaera is forced to admit that he is a good mummer. What a farce this is. She smiles pleasantly and prays the Seven she won't bash her bouquet of lilies and ash roses over her husband's head. That would serve him right.

Said mastermind of this plot looks equal parts bored and impatient. The nagging desire to remind him that it was not her who requested this wedding burns in the back of her throat. She bites her tongue and wonders if she'll remember how to speak after this.

* * *

He unveils her with care, as if she were some precious artefact, which Jaehaera, if she is being completely honest, truly is. She is just an object in the eyes of these people, a means to an end. She understands that and begrudgingly respects that Aegon too is giving something up.

As his lips touch hers, Jaehaera finds herself wondering if he has someone else. A lover or a sweetheart. The kiss ends just as it has begun, abruptly and awkwardly. The need to wipe her lips is insistent. Jaehaera dons a smile instead and holds her temper in check through the round of polite applause elicited from the guests.

"Was it necessary to invite all of King's Landing to the wedding?" she asks through gritted teeth as she is helped by her dutiful husband down the stairs.

"Hardly half," he snorts. "And most of them have come from Dragonstone anyway." As if that makes it any better.

"That was not my point." She suspects he knows fairly well what her point is, so she won't bore him with needless explanations. "Could you not have warned me?"

"About what?" comes the distracted reply. Aegon is no longer looking at her.

Following his gaze, Jaehaera finds a pretty blonde in the crowd staring at them. Premonition stirs in her stomach.

* * *

"How beautiful you are," uncle Daemon compliments her, twirling her around slowly. She has no father, so he has offered to lead her down the aisle and he dances the father-daughter dance with her. Jaehaera would be fuming if she thought she could get away with it. "My son will treat you right."

Her lips purse in annoyance. She cannot quite figure the man out. Her uncle is a dangerous man, wily and sly. His cunning nature is legend already and most people know not to provoke him. But this is her wedding day and she is feeling exceptionally brave. "I trust he has learned those skills from the very best," she alludes to her uncle's well known extramarital exploits.

Uncle Daemon was not necessarily a bad husband when Rhaenyra yet lived. But a bit of distance between him and his wife tended to act as the river Lethe in that uncle Daemon promptly forgot he'd ever said any compelling vows and chased after whatever woman caught his fancy. Jaehaera still remembers that aunt Rhaenyra would wring her hands nervously in anticipation whenever some man or another gave her reports on her husband's activities.

"Ah, you wound me," her uncle murmured without a trace of bite.

Realising that any attempt to bait him would be futile, Jaehaera presses her lips together.

* * *

Addam and Alyn Velaryon are having very much fun kidnapping the bride. For a brief moment she has half a mind to use her sole remaining shoe on them. Her other one is currently in an unknown brave boy's grasp and he insists that he will not return it until his price has been paid. Jaehaera wishes him the best of luck.

"So, how much do you think you are worth?" one of them asks. Jaehaera doesn't really know who is who.

She stares him right in the eye, though, when she answers. "Depends on whom."

They gaze at her with uncertainty which pleases her well enough. "Your husband, of course."

"Then I insist you at least demand one of those delightful villas on Dragonstone." The family owns several properties there, if she remembers correctly. "Or anywhere else really. My point being, think big."

Her captors mock-tie her with a silk scarf. This custom is one of those strange old traditions with obscure origins. It is fun, she must admit, if only because she knows she is perfectly safe and will be returned to the midst of the party once the Velaryon brothers obtain whatever it is they demand.

Unless of course this is not what she thinks it is and is actually a nefarious plot.

As it turns out, it isn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Jaehaera stirs a spoonful of sugar in her tea and watches the steam rise from the hot liquid. She looks up from her pancakes and glowers at Aegon sitting at the head of the table. He is busy reading the newspaper and pays her little mind. She would be very glad, of course, but since Corlys Velaryon has joined them this morning too and is looking at her with a particular hateful expression on his face, his intervention would be welcomed.

Alas, Aegon is obvious to her torment and happily sips on his coffee. The tension is so thick in the room that Jaehaera truly thinks she may be able to cut through it with a knife. Her butter knife to be precise. Jaehaera considers brandishing her weapon in the face of the surly Corlys. Changing his expression might actually benefit his features.

Tearing her gaze away from the men, she returned her attention to her pancakes.

She knows that in a few minutes both men will get up and go away and leave her alone. She cuts through the pancakes and plays with her food, pushing it around the plate. She should eat, she knows, but hunger doesn't compel her.

* * *

Nettles barges in through the door, a toothy smile on her face, her dark skin gleaming against the dull white of her dress. "Are you sulking again?" she asks in a low, raspy voice as she approaches Jaehaera's bed and pulls the covers off of her.

"Go away," Jaehaera replies, grabbing her pillow and throwing it over her head. She hides beneath it like a warrior would behind a shield. "Just leave me alone."

This does not stop Nettles unfortunately. The older woman forces the pillow away from her grasp. "If you want to sulk you are free to do so," she tells Jaehaera and for one moment the younger woman thinks she's won. "Not on my watch though."

"I am not sulking," Jaehaera protests. She is, however, lifted from the mattress much to her surprise. "What do you want?"

"I want you to get up from this bed, put on a nice dress and those black shoes and leave this room." Her dark eyes glare at the drawn curtains. "A bit of sunlight is not going to kill you."

"You don't know that." Although the words leave her mouth, Jaehaera scrambles off the bed, just in time to avoid Nettles pinching her. She hates being pinched.

* * *

The restaurant Nettles takes her to is not fancy by anyone's account. Jaehaera chooses a table near the window to sitting outside. The breeze is pleasant, but it is a bit chilly outside and she does not feel like enduring that along with a wounded heart.

Nettles orders a beer for herself and apple juice for Jaehaera. "You do know I'm not a child anymore, do you?" Jaehaera feels compelled to ask at this point. Nettles has always been a bit dismissive of her, and it is strange that she has suddenly taken an interest, but Jaehaera knows it has more to do with Aegon.

"You are a child compared to me," the other woman answers.

"I am a married woman." Jaehaera accepts the juice though and sips it through the straw. She does not feel that her point is diminished. But Nettles is apparently amused as she takes a swing of her drink. Jaehaera is not sure how to react to that.

"You are a married girl," Nettles contradicts her. "A scared little girl, to be sure. But married. And while that gives you the position of a grown woman in the eyes of society, we both know the truth."

"And what is that truth?"

* * *

Daemon shuffles through the papers but does not take his eyes off Aegon. "You could try spending some time with her," he advises the young man. There are times when he wonders why he insists on keeping the girl around him. "You searched for her all this time, you've found her and now you ignore her." Aegon glares at him, but Daemon isn't cowed. "Explain to me the logic behind this."

"I don't need to explain myself to anyone." And that is how he shows that he is Rhaenyra's son. He can see so much of his mother in the boy. They share the same stubbornness. "And I don't need to discuss my personal life with anyone."

"I am your father, boy. Mind your language." But really it is the temper they all share through the Targaryen blood that ties them together. Daemon is currently trying to keep this temper in check.

"I will not discuss my wife with you," Aegon insists and it is clear that he too is trying to hold onto his control. "Are you going to help me, or should I ask Corlys."

"Very well," Daemon grounds out. "But when that girl finally opens her eyes and chooses to leave you, remember that I tried to warn you."

* * *

By the time Nettles returns with her back to the mansion, Jaehaera is more than ready to slither into her bed and fall asleep the moment her head hits the pillow. "Do try to put a smile on your face," Nettles continues to speak as they climb the stairs. "You look so much better when you smile."

"I cannot smile when I don't feel like smiling," Jaehaera manages to get out. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives the other woman a dirty look. "I'm not you after all."

She knows she is mistaken when the smile on Nettles' lips fades. Her dark eyes become cold and her stare is cutting. "That you aren't. I pray every day that you will never be close to being me." The statement hides so many things. Jaehaera looks at her dumbfounded. "I really do hope you never end up like me."

What is wrong with Nettles' life, Jaehaera wonders. What could possibly be bothering her? "I didn't mean to – " she starts but she is cut off.

"You did mean it. I'll forgive you this time." Her hand reaches out for Jaehaera's. "Don't let this world steal your light. You'll never get it back if you do."


	5. Chapter 5

The first present she receives from her husband is inexpensive and utterly common. About a couple of months into their marriage, Aegon returns home with a ball of fur, mangy and unkempt, and dumps the poor creature in her lap. The pup lets out a yelp before burrowing into her warmth with soft whines. Jaehaera looks at her husband with wide eyes, her lips moving in soundless admonitions.

Aegon gives her an impassive glance. "I found it on the street."

Jaehaera flushes with indignation. "It is a he, actually." Her correction is met with a small grin.

He shrugs after. "I thought you might want him." Of late she has been telling him that she is extremely lonely. Nettles has taken herself off to Lys for a short vacation and there is no one else to talk to, as most people tend to avoid her. It seems that Aegon had actually been listening to her.

Holding the pup to her chest, Jaehaera stands up. She cradles the little creature, feeling almost motherly in this instant. "You mean it? He can stay?"

It's very strange, come to think of it. Never would it have struck her as possible that Aegon might do something like this. Jaehaera offers him an unsure smile and looks down at her gift. The dog nuzzles his nose against her blouse. She coos.

* * *

She wakes up in the middle of the night to whimpers and faint cries. It takes her a few moments to remember the basket that has been placed next to her. Jaehaera half prays that she won't have to clean the sheets. Alas, something tells her that she should hurry.

Opening tired eyes, she sees the pup, whose name she has not thought of yet, stumbling around. Jaehaera pushes the covers aside and rises to her knees with a soft sigh. "Gods," she murmurs at the mess. She reminds herself that she is dealing with a child and her ire dissolves into understanding and pity. She turns on a night lamp.

Jaehaera climbs out of bed, searching for cleaning utensils. Thankfully, the puppy had been happy to leave his mess in the basket. It's luck, of course. But it is good luck, which makes it a favourite of Jaehaera's.

Placing the dog back in his place, she strokes his now clean fur, trying to calm him down. "There, there," she speaks in hushed tones, "try to sleep." Her companion wags his tail.

The door of her room opens and Aegon pokes his head in. "Why are you still up?" he asks, voice thick with sleep.

In a benevolent mood, Jaehaera simply shrugs. "Go to sleep," she orders. She'll do the same.

Aegon shakes his head and closes the door.

* * *

Corlys Velaryon stares at her like she is some newfound sort of bug he would like to crush underneath the heel of his shoe. Jaehaera's eyes narrow at him. She feels like a cat with her claws drawn, ready to strike.

Aegon, seeming not to take note of the tension between them as always, discusses business with the odious man. Jaehaera tears her eyes away from them and return to playing with her pup, dragging a ribbon through the air. The dog chases the red streak flowing above him with a vengeance. Jaehaera stifles a laugh when he crashes against her leg.

"Perhaps if your wife would be kind enough to give us a few minutes of privacy," Corlys' voice carries over to her ears. Jaehaera's head snaps up. She treats him to a glare.

"I am very comfortable here," she says, leaning back against the couch. The stubborn set of her chin seems quite enough to tell Aegon that he will have to remove her bodily for she won't comply even if he does order her away. This is not medieval Westeros, after all.

Her husband sighs. "I have nothing to hide from my wife, Corlys." It is almost like he has been having much of this same discussion with the man by the way he says it.

Jaehaera smiles triumphantly.

* * *

Not long after, Jaehaera is treated to the privilege of meeting a certain Daenaera Velaryon. The young woman is a pretty sight to look at, but Jaehaera feels only a creeping feeling of disquiet at the warm smile she is greeted with. This is the same woman she has noticed at her wedding. With that in mind, she can only force herself to smile.

"How do you do?" she asks after the mandatory introduction, striving to be polite, despite any misgivings she might have.

Daenaera offers her a sly smile. "I am well, thank you. I admit, I am very happy to have met you. I wasn't sure Aegon would allow it given our history."

The blood in Jaehaera's veins turns to ice and the sweet juice on her tongue tastes of ashes. Again, she talks herself into misinterpreting those words. "You have known him long, then?" Her question is asked with what she can only hope appears as nonchalance.

"I know him very well," Daenaera replies. "And I hope we shall all be friends and get along." There is something guarded about her eyes then. Jaehaera congratulates herself on the unexpected success.

"I am sure we will be the best of friends." The words sound hollow to her own ears. Jaehaera doesn't really care if she discomforts this Daenaera. She simply wants the woman to get up and leave.

* * *

Holding the leash with clenched fingers, Jaehaera crosses the road, eyes darting left and right. She is somewhat fearful, but she attempts to calm herself by using reason. There are some things that she can and cannot do. At some point she had been instructed. Among these things she should not attempt, some important was given to leaving on her own. Now, Jaehaera is well aware that her circumstances are anything but normal, yet she craves a bit of freedom.

So she snuck out, somehow managing to trick everyone. It is just her and her little pup and the sea. The water is such a beautiful colour and the sand is warm and smooth. If only she were not best by the fears that steal her joy. "I do wish it was all a bit easier," she confides in her companion. The dog barks as if in reply.

Once he is released her pet runs around excitedly, Jaehaera just a step behind him. They chase one another along the shoreline, occasionally allowing the water to touch toes and paws. Jaehaera feels laughter bubbling on her lips and she releases it. It feels so good to just forget and have some fun.

"There is nothing better than this," she tells the pup, kneeling down to help him roll around in the sand. "I see you agree."


	6. Chapter 6

Aegon curse a blue streak, using so many invectives that Nettles actually feels pride blooming in her chest. She beams at him, well aware that his mood will not be improved. If anything her grin seems to have the opposite effect.

"While this is a charming welcome," Nettles begins, resting her hand in the crook of Demon's arm, "I must admit to some confusion."

"Well, she's not here," Viserys says as he strides purposefully into the room. When his eyes fall on his father and Nettles he greets both with an easy smile. "Have you heard? Jaehaera seems to have vanished from the house."

His brother turns to him with a sharp glare. "Then why are you still here?" In that moment there is something feral about the boy she has watched grow up. Aegon looks about ready to implode.

Nettles shares a curious look with Daemon. This is definitely unexpected but fairly interesting as far as developments go. She makes a hushed sound in the back of her throat but it is enough to attract the brother' eyes. "Where exactly have you been searching for the darling creature?"

They are good boys, truly, but when it comes to females they understand very little. Nettles waits patiently for the explanation that is sure to come.

* * *

She is seriously contemplating what to do when the pup comes to set its head against her thigh. They sit together in the sand, her hand trailing across his soft fur. She could probably run away, Jaehaera thinks, absently watching the waves lap at the shore. "I wish things were not so complicated," she speaks in a soft voice. If she does run away now, she may find a place to hide. But she had nothing with her though. She won't be able to find any work without papers, not even considering about somewhere to live.

There is another solution, of course. Jaehaera's gaze is fixed on the clear water. Her right leg trembles as the desire to sit up courses through her. She could get up and walk into those waves. She's always loved water, after all. She could walk and keep walking until there was nowhere else to go. Jaehaera is about to do so until something sharp connects with the thin skin of her fingers, sending small waves of pain through her. She looks down to see her little guardian mauling her finger.

Laughter bubbles on her lips and she throws her head back, all thoughts of a watery kingdom vanishing from her mind.

* * *

All blood flees her features when she sees those same men in black suits. Oh, Jaehaera knows they might as well be different men, but she recognises them, and they recognise her too, because two of them break away from the group and walk towards her in sync. Gripping the leash harder than before, her eyes search left and right for a place to hide.

But it's too late.

They surround her and Jaehaera's head drops. One of them gives her a small nod and she nods back. She's been caught. They walk her to the car and help her inside. The door shuts with an audible click. Jaehaera holds the pup – she thinks she will call him Aero – in her lap and the engine starts. Her head falls back against the seat. Briefly she wonders just how long ago they'd discovered she was gone. Jaehaera would like to think it took them some time.

But they always find her.

Indeed, it doesn't matter how well she hides or how far away she runs. Someone always finds her. There are always people who know she is Jaehaera Targaryen. A small sad smile crosses her lips. She'll never escape. It seems to be her fate. She should have been used to it by now, she thinks.

* * *

It's Aegon that helps her out of the car, his hand locked tightly around her wrist as if she might transform into a thin streak of smoke at anytime and escape his fingers. His eyes scrutinise her, perhaps searching for an explanation in the lines of her face or the creases of her clothing. Jaehaera bends to put Aero down and release him. The dog runs off.

Only she and Aegon remain as the rest of his men pull back, making themselves scarce. She glances in his eyes, watching the storm approach. There is nowhere left to take cover. So she stands and waits for the blows.

"We must talk," he tells her, voice gravelly and thick with something Jaehaera cannot place. Where he anyone but who he is, she might think he'd been worried about her.

"Very well," she replies, striving to hide all emotion from him. Her walls grow higher at the silent command and she tenses, his grip growing in strength.

He pulls her after him, his strides eating away at the distance between them and the entrance. She still has to attempt an awkward almost run to keep up with him. She recalls having to do the same when they were children and he refused to allow her to play with the boys. She used to follow him around, half running to match his strides.

* * *

Nettles and Daemon vacate the small office space, the woman sporting a satisfied expression of her face. She gently presses herself against Jaehaera, squeezing her hand encouragingly. After that it's just her and Aegon, facing one another with blank expressions.

Out of habit she arranges herself in a chair, her gaze falling to the opposite wall. Aegon takes a step towards her and the subtle tension between them heightens. "Look at me," the order comes. For a brief moment she thinks about disobeying. But she will have to face him eventually. Jaehaera gives in with a sigh. She looks up.

"Yes?" She thanks whatever deity is listening that her voice is not shaky. His eyes are darker than hers and they grow even darker as his ire rises.

"I thought I'd made it clear that you are not to live the house on your own under any circumstances." Jaehaera does not confirm his words. She continues to stare at the wall, closing herself off completely. If only she could become stone.

Aegon sees that she is not paying attention. He takes her by the shoulders, his grip almost bruising. He calls her name. Jaehaera gives him an obstinate glare. "Perhaps you have married the wrong person. I'm sure Miss Velaryon will take you back. You two have a history after all."

And with that she tears herself away from him and walks away before his surprise vanishes.


	7. Chapter 7

The rift between them deepens into a bottomless chasm fed by sullen silences and angry stares. Aegon refuses to explain himself and Jaehaera won't hear him even if he does. She locks her door every night, barring him entrance just in case he does decide to come – not that he ever has before and while at first she had been confused, she now knows why.

She wonders if Aegon finds his peace in the arms of that Velaryon girl and a cold fury fills her every time her mind conjures images of them together. Jaehaera knows she should not feel a thing for the man, so why does her heart squeeze painfully in her chest? Despite every deliberation, every decision to let him go, Jaehaera finds that the task is not easy.

They are married. Surely that counts for something. It must. It must, otherwise she is only a fool who deserves every twinge of pain that assaults her. This is the one thing she wants to be true. Whatever else happens, she wants to know that she is not alone in her convulsive pain. She shudders and staggers to the door, hand touching the wood.

It would take just the turn of the key. Only that and she can put everything behind her.

And then the handle moves.

* * *

He knocks against the wood softly at the same time as he presses the handle of the door downwards. Of course it is locked. Aegon sighs. His eyes close in exasperation and the devil in him rattles the bars of the cage he has constructed to contain him. If he gives in to his fury then the outcome might be grievous.

"Open the door," he finally speaks when he is sure his voice won't sound like a death knell. It has been quite enough.

He can hear her moving on the other side of the door. "No," comes the answer, hard and implacable.

"We must speak. Jaehaera, open this door right now." Why he doesn't just have the door taken down, Aegon can't figure out. There's a little voice in the back of his mind that warns him against pushing her too hard. He might never get her back.

"Must we?" she mocks, her voice reaching him through the thick wood. "Then I suppose I must open the door." The laughter that follows is as far from an expression of amusement as can be.

This one he isn't going to win. Aegon leans his head against the door, absorbing the cool feel of the wood.

* * *

The unusual siege lasts well into the following weeks. On the few occasions on which she must endure his presence, Jaehaera sports the warmth of a glacier, light eyes cutting through him at every opportunity. Aero rests at her feet, his devotion almost mocking the deserted husband. The rest of the household has erected some kind of wall around the couple of them, with only this dog squirming in and out.

Aegon decides that he cannot take any more. "I am sure you will like Dragonstone," he finishes telling Jaehaera after detailing the estate he plans to install her in. His wife has been silent up until now, but there is something akin to anger in her eyes and her lips are pressed tightly together. Well, let her be angry. He turns a blind eye to her display. His mouth opens to continue the rather one-sided conversation.

That's when his wife shoots up from her seat, bracing herself against the table. "Over my dead body," she spews. "I am not a toy to be discarded on a whim. Nor am I an errant child to be sent away for misbehaving." She gives him a hard stare. "I am not leaving this place. You cannot make me."

They remain locked in a battle of wills, neither one willing to let go of even a mere inch.

* * *

Jaehaera would show some remorse for her outburst if she could find it in herself to, but she cannot even summon an ounce of shame for having shocked Uncle Daemon and Nettles, or Viserys.

Viserys is still staring at her as if she has suddenly acquired a second head. Nettles has hidden her face in Uncle Daemon's shoulder and she is shaking lightly. Jaehaera would turn on her, but she cannot break her gaze from her husband's. It is only Uncle Daemon that has one eyebrow raised. He looks between husband and wife with thinly veiled interest, like a hound scenting blood.

Fortunately, they are all saved from further embarrassment by Aegon ordering everyone away. Clearly, they need not heard what shall further pass between them. Fear creeps ever so slowly in Jaehaera's mind, her muscles tensing with it, her heart beats growing quicker and quicker still.

The door closes softly behind the vacating persons. Aegon and Jaehaera are still locked in their contests. She waits for a word. She waits for some sort of truce, because she doesn't want a bloody battlefield on her conscience. But she will slay any notion of him casting her off.

"You will leave," he tells her slowly.

"I am your wife," Jaehaera reminds him. His dubious gaze sends a couple thousand needles piercing through her. "I belong here." The noose tightens around her neck as his eyes darken. She has said the wrong thing.

* * *

The floor creaks and groans. Aegon's eyes open slowly. He sucks in a breath and waits to feel the mattress deep behind him. He is not disappointed. The sweet scent of his wife's perfume fills his nostrils and her warmth radiates against his back. Curiosity prompts him to hold back his desire to move.

This is the first time she has ever stepped into his own private space. What does she hope to accomplish by coming here? Her hand touched his shoulder, shaking him gently. She calls his name, a whisper. "Aegon, are you awake?" It doesn't really matter because she pulls on him with all her strength after to change his position.

Whatever he had planned to say to her flees his mind when she kisses him quite unexpectedly, scrambling atop of him, thinking to hold him down with her weight. He should foil her plan and send her to her own bed, but she is insistent and he is not much for denying himself. Jaehaera shifts against him, uncomfortable and Aegon finds that cradling her and guiding her is much for satisfying than any rebuff he could think about. She sighs into him.

And this is the second gift received. This knowledge she gains underneath a full moon between the sheets of a foreign bed. It is a gift well shared and much enjoyed.


	8. Chapter 8

Her mad scheme works marvellously up until the point it no longer works at all. Jaehaera would have thought her plan infallible. She has counted on it, but obviously her reckoning is not to be trusted in such matters. It had all been going grand until the moment Aegon dashed her every hope to the ground.

"My mind is made up," her husband tells her, the steel behind his eyes biting into her skin. "Do not complicate things, Jaehaera."

"I am not," she insists. "But at least tell me why I am being exiled."

"Good gods, woman!" Exasperation is written on his face. "I am doing this for your own good." He must believe what he is saying or else deceit comes natural to him, because Jaehaera finds only honesty when she looks at him. "You are not being exiled, you are being protected."

She rolls her eyes. "I am sure that snarks and grumkins no longer wish to grab me from under the bed. I'm all grown up now, Aegon."

Expelling a heavy sigh, her husband looks heavenward. "Just pack your bags and do as I say, for once." As if she hasn't been doing exactly that up until now.

Her mutinous looks does not help matters overly much, one should think.

* * *

So it isn't exactly snarks and grumkins that are out to get her, Jaehaera figures. Still, it would be nice to know exactly what she is dealing with. Aegon won't explain it, though it is her honest opinion that he might exert himself at least a little. Instead she is handed into the capable hands of a thrilled Nettles who swears that Dragonstone is the best place to be at the moment.

"Oh, don't take on so," the older woman councils. "The less you know about this whole business the better, I say." It's very easy for her to speak when she knows all the facts.

"I do not want to leave. And this unseen danger everyone keeps flinging in my face is not the way to convince me." But leave she does. There is little choice she has.

"It seems you have discovered the joys of marriage," Nettles observes impishly. "Don't fret, dear. I'm sure Aegon is just as anxious to have you back as you are."

Blushing red at those words, Jaehaera decides that there's no point in trying to reason in with Nettles. She'll have to wait for her husband to be done with whatever threat he thinks looms over them. "Whatever you say," she manages in reply to her companion.

"That's it. Be of good cheer," Nettles returns to reading the newspaper.

* * *

Aero huddles under the bed, his paws noisy on the floor. Jaehaera sighs for the hundredth time. She cannot sleep. And she is not likely to. Aegon has called a few hours ago, a short conversation ensuing. It leaves Jaehaera wondering if her husband is able to communicate like a normal person, because the phone call was more silence than words. It was like the only thing the needed to know was that she continued to breathe.

The sentiment is appreciated, but a few kind words would have make her as happy as nothing else can. "I swear, Aero, he drives me insane."

Nettles is no better, with her teasing smiles and knowing looks. There are times when Jaehaera wants to get up and leave, just like that, no warning, no plans. But the thought never lasts. There's too much tying her down and she does not wish to give up even the weakest link of these chains.

So she endures and waits for the next call. She waits for the invitation to come back and promises to herself that she'll teach Aegon a thing or two about partnerships, right after she send Miss Velaryon to another continent – since another planet is entirely unmanageable.

The stars shine outside her window and Jaehaera throws them a thoughtful glance. She is almost where she wants to be, A few more steps and she'll be done.

* * *

Something breaks somewhere down below. Jaehaera shushes the growling dog at her feet. It sounds like footsteps making their way up the stairs. She tenses, her fingers curling around the blanket. This is a nightmare, she decides. It's that same old vision. In a moment the door will open and the gun will start shooting and somewhere next to her little Jaehaerys will be dying again for the thousandth time. Jaehaera braces herself for those horrifying choking sounds and her mother's screams mingling with her own.

The connecting door squeaks as it cracks open and Aero jumps out of his hiding spot, still growling, while Jaehaera prays that her muscles will unfreeze and allow her to move, to hide, to run away. But it's no gun that greets her. It's Nettles. She puts a finger to her lips gently. Jaehaera doesn't miss the pistol she clutches.

Finally, she is able to roll out of bed. Nettles motions her to the closet. "Stay there." She even pushes Jaehaera into the cramped space. There is still a small crack through which she can see Nettles crawling in her bed and pulling the covers over herself.

The agony of waiting follows. Footsteps in the hallway make Jaehaera's heart beat faster. Her breath comes in heavy and she has to bite down on her fist to keep from screeching out in fear.

* * *

They make short work of Nettles and her resistance. She is a good fighter, but they come in greater number than her. Jaehaera wants to rush out and grab the small pistol that has fallen to the ground. But she is not a good shooter. The only thing she'll accomplish is making the sacrifice useless. Of course, they might find her anyway and then all will be over.

It is then that Aero jumps at one of the men, sharp teeth biting and tearing. A gun goes off and a shrill whine follows. Jaehaera springs from her hiding spot, armed with an iron clothes hanger which she thrusts into the first person she can get her hands on.

The distraction is enough to give Nettles a fighting change and for one moment Jaehaera can hope that it will turn out fine. But some things just aren't meant to be. The scheme is doomed to fail.

Something hard connects with the back of her head and Jaehaera falls to the ground with the sound of screams in her ears and the sight of blood in her eyes. This scene is so familiar that her heart wrenches painfully as history repeats itself.


	9. Chapter 9

Viserys places the phone down, brows furrowing in unspoken concern. He glances at the skeleton clock on his brother's desk. It is still early. Considering that Nettles is a notoriously late sleeper, she might have roped Jaehaera into spending the time chasing the night away with talk and whatnot. Viserys is trying to convince himself of the validity of his beliefs when his father comes in. ""Morning," he offers, barely rising his eyes in greeting.

Daemon himself seems in a rather pensive mood. That in itself is not unusual. These strange moods of his father's are more or less to be expected in the absence of Nettles. However, his words startle Viserys more than he would have liked them to. "Nettles called sometime last night." Sitting himself on the couch, the older man heaves a sigh. "I've already sent someone to check."

"And?" The question slips out without Viserys' consent. But still, curiosity won't let him be. That, and self-preservation.

"None of them replied." Daemon rubbed his chin in a contemplative manner. "At first I thought it might be nothing, just the road taking longer than usual. But I can only wait this long without alarm bells ringing."

"You don't actually think-" Whatever Viserys wanted to say is lost as the door slams open to admit his older brother in.

* * *

Aegon looks from one man to the other, a strange feeling lodging itself in his stomach. It is a sort of sick anticipation that twists his insides painfully. He knows this look his father is throwing him. And the guilt in his brother's eyes makes matters clear. Resisting the urge to turn around and walk away, Aegon enters the room fully. "What has happened now?"

He expects it is something about that blasted transaction with the Velaryons. If only he could be done with it.

When he gets no reply, Aegon's eyes roam the room in search for clues. The only think he sees is the phone in his brother's hand. "Who did you phone?"

Viserys licks his lips, a gesture that betrays his nervousness. "I called my good-sister." He looks away for a moment, seemingly unable to hold Aegon's gaze. "She's not picking up."

"She's probably asleep," Aegon says, taking, however, the phone from Viserys and dialing the number he has learned by heart by now.

The phone rings and rings and rings. "How many times did you call?"

"Two or three," comes the quiet answer, bringing with it old fears.

Aegon looks up, eyes burning. "I asked only one thing of you," he manages to say, his voice thick with anger. He slams the receiver down, ignoring the sharp sound of protest it produces.

* * *

The men come back with news that is as distasteful as it is infuriating. Had Aegon not thought the apparent incompetence of these people when it came to important matters vanished, he would have taken care to have them all blown to pieces. As it is, he can only hurl insults at them and promise horrible punishments.

There are broken shards on the floor and Jaehaera's room has been painted in blood. The signs of struggle speak clearly. She did not go without a fight and, somewhere deep in his heart, the knowledge gladdens him.

Gently running his fingers across Aero's short fur, Aegon takes in the sight of his wounds. Perhaps he ought to have bought Jaehaera an army of such creatures. They seemed to do more good than his men ever managed to.

"He'll live," the vet assures him, securing the binding and checking for other wounds. The man places a hand on Aegon's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your wife."

The words snap him out of his self-imposed dreamlike state. Aegon's turns on his, fingers clenching into the white collar. He shakes Gerion. "Don't say that to me. She's not dead. She's not." Conviction bleeds out of the words spilling unchecked past his lips. Even Aegon doesn't know what he ends up saying to his friend.

* * *

There are not very many options to be considered and Aegon does think he knows them all. Unless, of course, there is an enemy he doesn't know about yet. He sits at his desk, glaring broodingly at a stack of papers. He cannot concentrate on the financial terms of all these contracts when he keeps seeing the image of Jaehaera covered in blood. It sometimes slips over the memory of his mother.

This is one of those nightmares that never really end. He just has to learn how to live with it. And yet he finds himself staring hopefully at the door, willing Viserys, or anyone really, to come in and bring him news. Any news. Not knowing is the hardest part.

The gods must be in a merciful mood, for the door open and in comes his father. He is holding up a small stack of pictures. Aegon holds his hand out for them and has them sorted out in a few short minutes.

Well, the matters are clear enough. "Has the number been identified?"

"They are professionals. The car was rented, the identities assumed false." Daemon searches his pocket for something, eventually pulling out a circular object. It's Jaehaera's ring. "This is all we found."

Aegon takes the wedding band, enclosing it in his fist. "Try again. Search everywhere." His answer is a nod.

* * *

Daenaera throws her arms around him, her golden curls tickling his cheek. She presses a soft kiss against his jaw and barely even notices when Aegon pulls back. "What are you doing here?" he questions. The woman looks up at him with a calculating gaze, so much in contrast to her greeting.

"Is this how you treat old friends?" she teases, a hint of laughter beneath her words. Aegon is not moved by her act. "Oh, fine." Daenaera lets go of him and steps back, sitting herself in one of the low armchairs. "I came all the way here to bring you something."

She is searching through her purse, chatting pleasantly while at work. Aegon cannot manage anything beyond monosyllabic answers. He attempts to keep his temper reined in, but Daenaera is making it awfully difficult.

Finally, she finds what she has been searching for. With a triumphant sweep she holds up a small rectangular box. "Here we are. From your dear associate Corlys."

He has an inkling as to what the box contains even before he opens the lid. But really, Aegon can only blame himself at this point. His own folly pushed him to trust Corlys.

A silver tendril of hair greets his vision, along with a pearl earring.

Placing the box on the table, Aegon focuses his attention on Daenaera. "Why are you here?"

"To negotiate terms, of course," she replies.


	10. Chapter 10

The vile taste of bile lingers in her mouth, burning the inside of her cheek. Jaehaera gives another glance towards the still unconscious Nettles. The guard at the door continues reading his paper, completely ignoring his two hostages. Of course, the door has been locked from the outside. But it's better to be safe than sorry. Jaehaera scowls lightly.

These too many precautions make an escape highly improbable. She doesn't even know how long she's been here.

Nettles stirs, a pained moan leaving her lips. They've beaten her up quite severely. There is not an inch of flesh unmarked. Jaehaera can only wonder how she carried through. Her admiration for the woman grows. But somewhere in the back of her mind the bitter sting of pity is a constant reminder of old conversations.

She hears the door opening but doesn't look up. She hasn't the disposition to listen to another round of Corlys' lamentations. It seems that his little plan is not so much based on greed as on revenge. The things people do in the name of love, Jaehaera thinks bleakly.

"Get up," the man tells her, grabbing her by the shoulder and hauling her from the seat. With a squeak of pain, Jaehaera complies. He has a weapon pressed to the back of her head after all and she is very fond of her living state.

* * *

Daenaera has fallen asleep in the backseat. This would be the perfect moment to slit her throat and throw her on the side of the road. That would teach Corlys a valuable lesson. However, it would also lose him Jaehaera. With that thought, Aegon pushes the hunger for blood away, locking it behind tight bars. After, he promises himself. After Jaehaera is safe away, he will repay the Velaryons in kind. There won't be a speck of dust left of them, no proof that they ever existed.

Reaching the designated place, Aegon stops the car. He presses the pedal so hard that Daenaera is thrown forward, her head crashing against the front seat. The small revenge doesn't do anything for Aegon. He throws off the safety belt and leaves the car.

Following at a slower much pace, Daenaera joins him a few moments later, a perfectly polite smile painted on her lips. She takes his arm, ignoring the way the muscles tense beneath her palm. "Now, don't be impatient, Aegon dear. You've waited all this time. What's a few more minutes, right?"

He doesn't reply, but forces himself to keep breathing in a calm manner. It will all be over soon enough. The thought echoes in his mind, not all connotations pleasant.

* * *

This is the end. Corlys can feel it. He gives one last venomous looks towards the young woman in the seat next to his. "Speak, and I'll blow your brains out," he threatens. "Don't try to leave the car and don't do anything stupid." He finds that he rather wishes she would disregard his words. That would give him reason enough to shoot her. But Jaehaera Targaryen resembles none of the powerful women in her family. She is a hothouse flower, placid and docile.

Aegon is already waiting for them. Corlys can see in his rival's eyes that look which most men get when they and theirs are threatened. Good, he should be fearful. He leaves the car and then releases Jaehaera, pushing her before him, the pistol pressed tightly to the back of her head.

"What took you?" Daenaera asks, her face arranging itself in a pout. "I thought you weren't coming after all. Aegon was starting to think you were pulling his leg."

"Enough talking," Aegon cuts in. "I've signed those papers. Give me my wife back."

Jaehaera gasps and Corlys pushes the pistol against her in warning. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Daenaera holds the stack of papers out for Aegon to take. He does and steps towards his wife and her captor. Aegon holds the papers in front of Corlys' face.

* * *

It is fortunate that greed is so deeply integrated within the human nature, Aegon thinks as he witnesses Corlys' eyes devouring the contract he must be so proud of. Distaste flashes in his eyes, but he chooses not to say anything. It is best to allow the enemy this illusion.

Jaehaera is looking at him with worried eyes and Aegon wishes he could take her in his arms and tell her that all is well. Unfortunately, he cannot. Instead he gives her a barely perceptible nod and hopes that she is able to read through it. Jaehaera sucks in a breath.

"One might think you really care for this woman," Corlys says, tearing his gaze away from the papers. Aegon can see the man's arm moving lower. The weapon is probably resting at the level of Jaehaera's spine by now. If he shoots he can shatter it. He can take Jaehaera's life anytime he wishes. "Do you really?"

"Of course. She is my wife." It feels natural to be saying these words. Aegon doesn't wonder at it. He merely speaks, trying to buy himself some time. This is the tricky part.

Somewhere behind them a loud sound is produced. The enemy is distracted.

"What is the meaning of this?" Corlys yells, eyes growing wide.

At the same time, Aegon speaks to Jaehaera. "Get down. Now."

* * *

Pebbles and small sharp rocks bite into her skin as she presses herself flat against the ground. Jaehaera hears the gun go off. Her eyes are shut tightly and her lips are ghosting a prayer she thought she had forgotten. A weight settles over her and she is enveloped by the familiar scent of Aegon's cologne.

"It's okay," he whispers in her ear, one hand touching her shoulder gently, fingers curling along the shape of it.

When she opens her eyes, the lifeless gaze of Corlys Velaryon looks at them accusingly. A few feet away lies Daenaera. Aegon pays it no mind. He is too busy guiding her to her feet and brushing the dust away from her clothes. Jaehaera, however, cannot tear her eyes away from him.

"He's dead," she notes somewhat dispassionately. Shouldn't she feel something? "He left Nettles back at the house. She was in a bad way when-"

"Not as bad as you would think," comes the voice of Nettles from behind them.

Jaehaera jumps around and runs to the other woman wrapping her arms around her. They draw apart not long after. Viserys is saying something to her husband, but Jaehaera doesn't catch it. She can see though that Aegon takes it for a joke. Her husband smiles and throws her a suggestive look.

Blushing, Jaehaera walks back to his side. She might just come to love this family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pam pam! Here's the happy ending I promised.


End file.
